Grounds For Deception
by xLou26
Summary: A crime of passion, or just a cold blooded killer. Either way detectives Erica and Bailey need to work quick to catch whoever has turned life in New York upside down.  Part of the 'Do Not Cross' series  Featuring Wade Barrett, Sheamus and others.
1. Tricks of the Trade

**Grounds For Deception**

**A crime of passion, or just a cold blooded killer. Either way detectives Erica and Bailey need to work quick to catch whoever has turned life in New York upside down. With the help of two certain male detectives, solving the case should go down without a hitch. That is if they can keep their feelings away from the crime ****lab.**

**Chapter 1 – **_**Tricks of the Trade**_

_11.30pm - Brooklyn, New York _

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" The low English accent cut through her as Erica walked into the room. One quick swipe and she had surveyed her surroundings, looking for anything out of place. The living room seemed normal, apart from the dead body of course.

"Cut the small talk detective. What happened?" She smiled at detective Stu Bennett, waiting for him to fill her in.

"Vic's name is Christian Thomas. A neighbour found him, called 911 straight away." Erica stepped over the shards of glass on the wooden floor. A broken picture frame appeared in her sight, the heads of the people in the picture had been cut out.

"Have you spoken to the neighbours?" Erica set her case down and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Stu pointed to the left, two uniformed officers were talking a young woman.

"Yeah, said she heard heavy footsteps down the corridor. Opened up to see who it was and saw the door kicked in."

"Guys, you better come in here." Erica carefully moved through the crime scene into the bathroom where Bailey stood, camera in hand staring into the mirror.

"Looks like some kind of map." Erica stared the image drawn on the mirror. A cross was drawn and a red dot with an arrow and the words _'you are here'_ written. _'Jump' _was written alongside one of the lines.

"It's been drawn in lipstick." Bailey turned to Erica and watched as she methodically studied the mirror.

"Female killer?"

"Maybe, but anyone can get a hold of lipstick."

"Brooklyn Bridge." Erica snapped her finger and turned to Bailey.

"What?" Bailey stared at her friend as she pointed to the map.

"If we are here." Erica pointed to the red dot. "Then that's the East river-

"And that has to be the Brooklyn Bridge."

"Jump. Maybe something's in the river." Erica smiled. "And there's only one way to find out."

* * *

><p><em>12.15 - Brooklyn Bridge<em>

"Bailey, look at this." Crouching down to get a better look at the ground, the word '_Jump' _was written with an arrow facing a side of the bridge.

"Same handwriting."

"High velocity blood spatter here." Erica's gaze was glued to the tiny drops of blood of the pavement.

"This message isn't in lipstick, Erica." Bailey held up the swab showing positive for human blood. She handed the swab over to Erica and continued photographing. Bailey examined the floor where the word was scrawled across the stone, taking snap after snap from different angles with her camera, as Erica explored the scene a little.

"Bailey! Over here!" Erica yelled to her friend and partner from the side of the bridge. Bailey stood from her crouching position and approached the edge; leaning over the railing to get a good look at what Erica had spotted "We've got another one."

"I'll get a pick-up from the lab. We're going to have to be quick with this one. God knows how long it's been in the water," Bailey pulled her phone from the holster hooked on her hip. Sliding the screen of her Blackberry up as she punched in the number for the lab.

"So ladies, what have we got?" CSI Supervisor John Cena stepped beneath the yellow tape securing the area. He was slipping on a pair of white latex gloves, flashing a grin and both Erica and Bailey. Bailey flicked through the pictures she'd photographed on her camera as Erica spoke to their boss, leading him through everything they'd discovered so far.

A crowd of civilians were beginning to form around the area, held back by uniformed NYPD officers. Bailey had never understood what was so interesting about watching a crime scene clean up. The general public just loved to stick their noses in, always wanting to be the centre of attention. It didn't matter that the poor son of a bitch floating in the water was someone's son? Someone's husband? A little girl's father?

Erica crouched down to get a better look under the railing of the bridge. Rushing back to her case she grabbed a print card to collect the fingerprint left behind whilst John spoke to Bailey.

"Have you called for a pick-up? We'll need to get the body out of the water before it's washed away by the current and any evidence is completely gone."

"I've done it," Bailey cracked a smile at him. He raised an eyebrow back at her. Erica smirked at the humour-filled tension between her boss and partner. Sometimes John still thought of them as rookies despite them being on his team for three and a half years.

"They're on their way," Erica told him "Shouldn't be too much longer. But we'll have to disperse this crowd. Think you can get some NYPD on that?" she asked, taking another swab of blood from the wall, pulling the cover over the top before placing it back in her kit for analysing back at the lab.

"Yeah, I'm sure I can manage that. Once you get the body out, get an I.D and update me. I want kept in the loop," he turned his back on the girls and left the scene, ducking beneath the yellow tape once more. A few words whispered to several police officers had them beginning to move people on their way, clearing the way for the body to be removed from the water and taken to the lab once the coroner arrived.

"Well what do we have here?" Erica had begun moving a few meters away from Bailey. She picked up a cell phone, the front smashed and the back cracked.

"Could belong to the victim or our killer." Bailey walked over to Erica who was studying the phone carefully gripped between her fingers.

"Yeah, we might be able to get some prints. Then I'll get Ste to go through the cell." She dropped the phone into an evidence bag and sealed it up, writing the date, time and location on the front of the envelope.

"I bet you will." Bailey grinned at her partner; she knew something was going on with her and Stephen Farrelly. He was a field detective who specialised in digital forensics. This was one of his nights off, though no doubt John had called him wanting his input on the case.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's going on with you two?" Bailey stopped what she was doing and waited for an answer.

"We went for a couple of drinks last week, you know that." Erica smiled, purposely avoiding her question.

* * *

><p><em>10am - Crime Scene Investigation Labs<em>

"Cause of death?" Erica asked bluntly as she walked into the morgue, instantly greeted by Dr. Phil Brooks.

"Bullet straight through the heart."

"Do you have the bullet?

"Right here." He handed her a small evidence bag and she grinned. Firearms were her speciality and she couldn't wait to get to ballistics. If she could match the bullet, they may know what type of gun the killer used.

"I ran his prints though AFIS and there was no match."

"So he's still a John Doe."

"I also found this note inside the vic's mouth, I thought you might want to take a look." Phil handed her the note and waited for her reaction.

"_Rare, medium, well done; what will our vic have done_." Erica glanced back up from the note. "Meat packing district?"

"That's what I thought, but then I found this in his pocket. No ID, no wallet, no phone; nothing, just this." Handed to her was a card for Jimmy's Steakhouse.

"Okay, I'll take a picture of the vic and see if anyone there can ID him. And if he was there last night, we could be looking at our primary crime scene." Phil chuckled as Erica skipped off, obviously pleased that they now had a potential lead.

"What did Phil give you?" Bailey asked from her position leaning over the microscope in her lab. She was examining a slide of the blood taken from the scene at Brooklyn Bridge. Lifting her eyes from the eyepiece lens, she glanced at Erica who stood in the doorway, an envelope, a flashcard of fingerprints, a photograph and another smaller card in her hands.

"The vic was killed by a bullet through the heart, explains the blood splatter. No I.D though. Phil ran the prints through AFIS, came up without a hit," she stepped further into the lab "Did you get anything from the blood."

"Not much. The victim was AB negative, quite a rare blood type but we've hardly got a lead in a city of 8,000,000 people. You got the bullet?"

"Yeah," Erica shook the envelope.

"That's your speciality," Bailey laughed "What's the card?"

"Jimmy's Steakhouse, Brooklyn" Erica turned the card over and over in her hand, running her fingertips across the embossed writing on the black card "Phil found it in the victim's pocket; only thing he had on him. No wallet, no I.D, nothing."

"Okay, well we'll head down to Jimmy's and see what we can find," Bailey stepped away from the microscope and stripped her white lab jacket off, hooking it on the back of the door as they stepped into the hall "Oh wait! I forgot to drop the phone off to Ste. You could do that right?" she raised her eyebrows at Erica.

"I guess I could. You can't go down to Jimmy's alone though."

"I won't be alone. I'll take Stu," Bailey shrugged ignoring the pointed look she received from Erica.

"Be careful, don't rub him up the wrong way." Erica grabbed the phone in an evidence bag from the side and raised an eyebrow at her. "Let me know what you find out."

Bailey smiled and took the snapshot of their victim and sauntered off down the hall, pulling her cell out of her pocket to dial Stu's work number.

"_Bennett!_" he picked up after two rings.

"Good news. You're with me today," she heard the groan escape him from beneath his breath "Meet me at Jimmy's Steakhouse in Brooklyn, 20 minutes. Don't be late," she slid her phone screen down to end the call.

* * *

><p>Erica walked into the lab a few doors down, immediately searching out Stephen. She sighed when he wasn't there. Setting the phone down she took a seat on one of the stools in front of the bench. On the desk she noticed some notes, she could tell they were Stephens by the writing.<p>

"Yeh like going through me stuff?" The Irish brogue behind her caused her to spin around on the stool.

"Only when it has been left out for me to find. What is this?"

Stephen pointed to the notes in her hand. "CCTV, ah went through the tapes from the apartment. They've been tampered with."

"Great." Erica sighed and put the notes down. She had been counting on going through the CCTV tapes, and maybe catching a glimpse on the killer.

"What can ah do for yeh though?"

"Found this phone at the bridge, it's a little damaged but I figured if anyone could pull some information from it, it would be you." She smiled sweetly and spun back around on the stool. Picking up the phone she handed it to him.

"It's been examined already and I couldn't get any prints off it."

"Ah'll do me best lass, leave it with me." Stephen touched her arm lightly and she couldn't help the blush creeping to her cheeks.

"Erica, in my office now." Both Erica and Stephen turned to the door to see John looking less than impressed.

"Yes sir." Stephen smiled gently at her before she leapt off the stool and followed John to his office. Erica wondered just what the hell had gone on.

* * *

><p><em>11am - Jimmy's Steakhouse, Brooklyn.<em>

Bailey parked the car outside of Jimmy's Steakhouse. It was a small restaurant, two dingy looking windows on either side of a black painted door. The front was covered with a tatty looking awning which at some point in time had been white and black stripes. She sat in the car, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she waited on the familiar black car pulling up behind her. She spotted it first in her rear-view mirror. She tutted and got out of the car, straightening the hem of her black wool-blend trousers and made sure her navy blue blouse was tucked in to her trousers. The cuffs of her shirt reached down to her elbows, allowing her enough room to move freely whilst examining a crime scene.

Bailey checked the her gun was holstered and hooked on the back of her belt as she approached Stu's car, watching the 6ft 5" detective remove himself effortlessly from his car and stand over her.

"You're late," she sniped at him, narrowing her eyes.

"Timing were you boss?" he cocked an eyebrow. Bailey fought the smile that threatened to take over her lips. Animosity had to be the strongest of feelings felt between the two detectives. Neither one agreed on anything and when forced together on cases, both butted heads constantly. He straightened the collar of his shirt as he pulled on his black suit jacket and shut the car door "What are we here for?"

"Phil found a card for this place on the vic when he did the autopsy. It was the only he had on him. I've got a photo of the victim to show the owners, hopefully we'll get an I.D because AFIS turned up zilch."

"Right. And why do you need me?" he asked as they walked towards the entrance.

"Erica's chasing up a smashed phone she found at the crime scene, might help us I.D the victim. So I need some back up in case I get into trouble and a big, strapping guy like yourself is just what I was after," she tugged the door open, stepping inside ahead of Stu.

It was quiet inside, a few customers sat huddled in red leather booths, eating plates of steak and chips, some varied with plates of salad. Stu and Bailey stepped up to the counter, Stu's eyes were already surveying the place; making sure he could see all the exits.

"Can I help you?" a chubby looking guy appeared behind the counter dressed in a greasy looking white wife-beater covered by an open blue shirt and a pair of loose black trousers. He was beginning to go bald and had a cloth thrown over his left shoulder "You want something to eat?"

"Actually we're here on business," Bailey interjected "I'm Detective Bailey Easton and this is Detective Stu Bennett; we're with the crime lab," both Stu and Bailey showed their badges to the man behind the counter "Are you Jimmy?"

"That's me. What can I do for you Detectives?"

"We'd like to know if you know this man?" Bailey held up the photograph as Stu spoke to Jimmy "He was probably more alive that last time you seen him," the man didn't seem to have a problem understanding Stu's English drawl.

Recognition washed across Jimmy's features before he shook his head and his eyes met with the two detectives. "No, sorry. I never seen him before in my life."

Stu leaned across the counter, pressing his large palms against cheap plastic top "You might want to take another look because I'm betting on it that you know him. I'll haul you in right now for perverting the course of justice buddy. I am really not the mood for games," Bailey placed her small palm on Stu's large arm and he glanced over his shoulder at her, an imperceptible nod occurring between the two.

"What Detective Bennett means to say is could you please take another look at the photograph?" Bailey batted her eyelashes at Jimmy instantly feeling a wave of disgust come across her. She held up the picture once more and allowed the owner to take a look as Stu growled lowly in his chest from behind her.

"You know, I do recognise him. It's Evan Jacobs."

"And that means so much to us," Stu barked at him. Bailey ground her teeth together wishing the big oaf would just keep his cool so they could get what they wanted and leave "Would you care to elaborate?"

"I've seen him around. He eats in here during the week. Has a thing for one of my waitresses Carly."

"Can we speak to Carly?" Bailey averted her eyes towards the back of the restaurant where Jimmy had come from.

"She's not here. It's her day off."

"Do you happen to have an address for Carly?"

"She stays in Crown Heights, Montgomery Street," Jimmy spoke quickly "Apartment 12B I think. Can I ask what this is about?"

"You can ask. It doesn't mean we'll tell you," Stu placed his hand on Bailey's lower back and ushered her towards the door without so much as a backwards glance to Jimmy. The door slammed shut behind them, the glass ricocheting slightly from the force which Stu had pulled it closed.

"What the hell was that?" Bailey turned on Stu, removing herself from his grasp with ease "Well?" she raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest which caused her breasts to push up and out, drawing Stu's eyes to them for a brief moment.

"That was police work Bailey. We don't disclose anything we don't..."

"I know! I am a police officer in case you forgot. There was no need to be rude to him."

"We're here to do a job Bailey. There are two bodies lying on tables back at the morgue. If you can't deal with that, if you cannot accept that we need to be a little bit harsh to get the job done then maybe you are in the wrong job."

Bailey's mouth opened and closed several times before she closed it firmly, glared at Stu harshly and turned on her heel, walking towards her car and slamming the door closed behind her.  
>If he thought he was going to get away with speaking to her like that then he had another thing coming. But she wouldn't let him know he'd pissed her off. He could go fuck himself before that happened.<p>

**A/N – Hi guys, so another fic. This one is part of the Do Not Cross series, along with Signed Sealed Delivered and Undercover Lover by xFindTheEnigmaWithinx (Check my page for the link). This has been written between me and Karen, it's kind of a CSI/Wrestling crossover if you will. Be sure to let us know what you think. Lou x**


	2. All Fired Up

**Chapter 2 – **_**All Fired Up**_

Bailey and Erica sat in John's office, heads lowered as he stood behind his desk. The sun had risen high above New York City and their boss's large frame was silhouetted against the backdrop of the city through the large ceiling to floor windows. His lips were pressed together in a firm frown as he stared down at his two young protégées. These were two grown women; ones that he'd mentored for several years gone by, taught them not to make simple rookie mistakes. But he was still having to haul them in here for stupid things.

"Do you know why I brought you two in here?" John spread his arms and pressed his palms against the desk. He raised his eyebrows at the two of them as they stared back, chins tipped back in defiance. Either they knew and refused to let on or they had no idea whatsoever "You left a crime scene clean up! You left it in the hands of a rookie! Do you know the severity of this situation?"

Bailey was the first to speak "We were attending another crime scene."

"You never leave a job unfinished. The call for the other scene came in later than the one you left, the bridge had been cordoned off my NYPD, Bailey, you both could have shown face at the bridge once the first body had been picked up by the coroner. Crime doesn't have a time!"

"It does when we've got a body in the East River!" Bailey stood up from her chair "Evidence washes away. Erica and I chose the scene which was most important. We are not the only CSI's on this damn team! This is ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous?" John tipped his head at her. Bailey was the fiery one, always had to get the last word in, hated being wrong whilst Erica was more subdued but still lethal if caught at the wrong time "How ridiculous is it that we've got a murdered man down the stairs on a table who's killer may or may not be found now? I am aware that you are not the only two CSI's on my team but you are two of the best we have! I don't take second best, both of you know that and I trust you both. You cannot expect a proper clean up from a rookie!"

"You treat us like rookies but you still expect the job done," Erica muttered lowly. John brought his eyes to her next, his gaze narrowing.

"Excuse me?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

"You heard me John. You still treat us like rookies. You never..."

"If you didn't act like rookies, I wouldn't treat you that way!" John's words stung the both of them hard. Bailey swallowed thickly, moistening her lower lip with her tongue "Where are we on the case? I told you I wanted kept in the loop."

"Ummmm...we got an I.D on the second victim, his name is Evan Jacobs. We've not the chance to dig up much more on him but we're chasing up a lead on a suspected girlfriend. Her name is Carly, she lives in Crown Heights. Phil's still doing the autopsy on the first victim and Erica left a smashed cell we found at the bridge with Stephen, hopefully he can pull something off of it," Bailey's voice cracked every so often as she spoke. She was still reeling from the way John had spoke to them and with a glance back at Erica who was digging her nails into the wooden arm rests of the chair, she seemed pretty pissed off too.

"Good. Both of you chase up the girl, I'll see how far Stephen has got with the phone and then I want you back here working the evidence from the first case. We need to crack this one before another person turns up dead," he pointed to his door. Erica stood up and Bailey followed her out, closing the door behind her. Erica had been suspiciously quiet and Bailey was wary of her when she acted that way, very few people escaped unscathed when Erica unleashed her anger.

"Erica wait up!" Looking over her shoulder, Stephen approached the pair, a case file in hand. She wanted to smile. In fact she tried but she was annoyed as hell and wanted to get out of the lab.

"What?" Stephen raised an eyebrow at her tone. He glanced to Bailey and then to the office they had just come out of. Erica was usually the calm collected of the pair.

"Yeh alright? What did Cena want to talk to yeh about?" Asking cautiously, Stephen glanced at Erica then back to Bailey, hoping one of them would provide him with an explanation.

"I'll talk to you about it later." Erica smiled apologetically. Stephen held out the case file that was in his hand, waiting for Erica to take it.

"Last call on the phone was made to Christian Thomas." Erica took the file and raised an eyebrow.

"The vic?"

"Yeah, thought you would like that." Stephen laughed, it rumbled from his chest and made Erica smile.

"But the finger prints didn't hit on the database." Erica sighed and nodded at Stephens words. That made their job harder; tracking down whoever killed Christian Thomas in that apartment needed to be done now, before they got away or worse.

"Thanks Ste, I'll look on the way to Crown Heights. We're going to check up on the girlfriend."

"Alright lass, good luck." With that Stephen turned on his heel and headed back to the lab.

"You okay?" Bailey asked as they walked down the hall, both heading for the parking lot so they could head back to Brooklyn.

"Me?" Erica looked at her "Hmmmm...yeah I'm fine."

"You know he was just going hard on us back there because he taught us better. It might suck, I hate being busted just as much as you. And it's ridiculous because there are other CSI's on the team but..."

"He's right," Erica sighed "We should never have left the scene. And I guess that's what's making me so angry. Maybe because he actually had cause to kick our asses," they stepped into the elevator, taking it to the BG level to the parking garage beneath the building "Am I driving?" Erica grinned as Bailey threw the keys her way; it was always fun to drive around New York.

They pulled up in Crown Heights and got out of the car. Bailey glanced around the street. It was pretty rundown and most of the walls had been sprayed with graffiti. She licked her lips softly as Erica joined her on the sidewalk, flicking the keys at the car to turn the alarm on. Erica wore a pair of jasmine wool straight-leg grey trousers, a white washed silk tank top with the hem tucked beneath the trousers and a matching grey wool blazer.

"Can you see anything suspicious?" Bailey enquired. Erica stared up at the apartment and shook her head.

"Aside from the obvious, not really. Let's go inside. Which number was it again?"

"12B," they opened the outside door and it creaked under the pressure of being used. Both detectives walked up the steps slowly, balancing carefully in their heels. Erica raised her hand when they reached 12B and knocked firmly on the door.

"Who is it?" called back a timid voice a few moments later.

"NYPD. We're with the crime lab," Bailey answered, running a hand through her brown hair. She could tell the girl on the other side of the door was young and quite possibly frightened. Who knows what condition she was in. The door creaked open and a pretty brunette popped her head around the door "Hi. I'm Detective Bailey Easton," she showed the girl her badge "And this is my partner Detective Erica Hudson. Do you have a few moments to talk to us?"

"I...umm...I really have to get to work," she attempted to shut the door. Bailey put her hand up against the wood.

"That's funny Carly. We've already spoken to your boss. He says you're not working today. So let us ask you again. Do you have a few moments to speak with us?" Erica shot the young woman a seething glance. She was not in the mood to be played about with. She was here to get the information she needed and then she wanted to leave. It had been a hellish day so far.

"What's this about?"

"Do you know Mr Evan Jacobs?"

"Yes! Is he okay? Is he hurt?" Carly flung the door open in her eagerness to get information on Evan.

"May we come in?" Bailey kept her cool as Carly began to get agitated "It's quite necessary that we speak to you."

"Ummm...okay, I guess," she let both Erica and Bailey in. Bailey surveyed the apartment. There was nothing to brash or bold about the place, typical for the wage Carly was earning but she got the feeling that if Evan was her boyfriend, he certainly wouldn't have been shy in flashing the cash.

"What is your relationship with Mr Jacobs?" Erica asked as she took a seat on the small sofa in Carly's sitting room. Bailey joined her a few moments later.

"We...we were dating," Carly wrung her hands together. She was nervous and fidgiting. She was scared.

"Dating? You were in a relationship with him? You were sleeping together?" Carly nodded "How long have you been intimate with Mr Jacobs?" Bailey asked.

"We've been...seeing one another for 7 months now. He said he was going to leave his wife for me. Oh my! Is that what this is about? Has something happened to his wife and kids?"

Bailey met Erica's eyes. New information already.

"No. I'm sorry to have to tell you this Ma'am but Evan Jacobs was found in the East River this morning. He was shot."

"Oh my god!" Carly began to sob brokenly "Nooooo!" she wailed, throwing her hands up to her face "What happened? Who did this to him?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. Can you tell us where you were between 9pm and 11.30pm last night?"

"I...I was working," she sobbed, wiping her tears away to answer the question.

"And your boss will confirm that?" Erica asked. Carly nodded, in shock "Do you have a relatives you can stay with?"

"I...my mom. But she lives out of state. In North Carolina."

"Maybe see if she could come up here an stay with you, we can see you're in a bit of a state. Leave a contact number with us and we'll be back in touch with you. Again, our deepest sympathies Ma'am."

"So he was having an affair," Bailey smirked at Erica as they left the rundown apartment, the contact number for Carly safely stored in Bailey's phone.

"I guess we better find his wife then," Erica remarked as they got back into the car and headed back to the lab.

Erica and Bailey stepped back inside the lab, their heeled shoes making a soft click-clacking off of the polished linoleum floors.

"Do you think Carly had anything to with vic's murder?" Erica asked as they made their way down towards the main offices of the lab. Bailey walked along beside her, fiddling with the phone in her hand for a few seconds.

"Oh...I don't know. She seemed awful timid, you know afraid of something when we knocked on the door. But then again, they do say it's always the quiet ones."

Erica nodded as they continued on down the hallway.

"Bailey?" both girls swung around to see John heading straight for them. Bailey raised an eyebrow at their boss, still firmly pissed that he'd told them off "Can I talk to you for a few moments?"

Erica glanced at her partner, wondering what their boss wanted to talk to her about. But instinct told her to keep her mouth shut for the moment.

"I'll go and catch up with Stephen. Come and get us in the lab," Bailey nodded at her friend and watched her disappear down the corridor before turning back to their boss. Tucking a lock of chestnut hair behind her ear, her eyes roving over him as she thought back to the start of their close friendship. He'd mentored her and Erica the majority of the way through their careers but John and Bailey had a closer knitted relationship which no one else seemed to understand.

"What do you need?" Bailey asked him, her lips forming into a thin line.

"You can't stay angry at me forever, Kid," he murmured, folding his large arms across his chest.

"I can try my hardest. Is there something that you want? I've got a lot of work to do."

"Bailey," his voice was soft as he said her name and Bailey pursed her lips in anger. She didn't want to have this conversation with him here, in fact she didn't want to have it at all.

Bailey held up her hand "John, I don't want to talk about this. I really do have a lot of work to do," she turned to leave, taking two or three steps before turning back around, holding the index finger of her left hand up in the air in front of her "You know, Erica and I get it. We know that we were in the wrong and we should never have left the crime scene. We know that it was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened. But the last thing we need is you breathing down our necks and roasting us for it. We know our job and you're going to have to start realising that we are **not** rookies anymore and we don't need your help to solve these cases. You're our boss and, yes, you have the final say but we don't need mollycoddling. You don't need to mentor us anymore and we're big enough to solve cases without you holding our hands," she spun on her heel and stalked away, not giving their boss any time to respond.

She entered Stephen's office, hovering by the door as her eyes took in the scene unfolding in front of her. Erica sat on the chair pulled up in front of the computer and Stephen stood behind her, leaning down across her as they stared at the screen. A warm flush washed across Erica's cheeks as Stephen puffed hot air next to her ear, sending shivers across her skin. Bailey grinned from the doorway and cleared her throat, watching as Stephen stood up rather quickly, smoothing his hands down against his black trousers. Erica's face flushed even hotter if that was possible and she cleared her own throat.

"Ummm...Bailey, come take a look at this," she beckoned her partner over. Bailey stepped further into the room and approached the pair, curious as to what they had found.

"Please tell me you've got something good?" Bailey pleaded as she stood besides Erica who hit the play button.

"So this is just before TOD." Erica pointed at the screen as she paused it, a figure on the screen who appeared to be a woman. "We can't see her face because she's going into the apartment. Put fast forward and there she is."

"This is the wife?" Bailey leant closer to the paused screen, the picture was a little fuzzy. But as soon as Erica brought up a picture of the wife to compare, she saw the resemblance.

"Sure is. Leaving right after the murder." Stephen smirked, clearly pleased with the little bit of evidence he had found.

"Now we just have to find her." Erica mused, thinking out loud as her gaze held on the screen for a moment.

"Ah've got to go lasses. They want me skills for another case." He squeezed Erica's shoulder before adding, "Still on for tonight?"

"Yeah, see you later Ste." Erica waved as Bailey yelled bye. Erica held her breath, waiting for the onslaught of questions.

"You and Stephen, what's going on with you two now?"

"It's chinese night, the same thing we've done every night for the past year." Erica feigned innocence but Bailey knew there was something more.

"Just suck it up and tell him, sooner rather than later. Watching the two of you flirt and blush is making me feel sick."Erica rolled her eyes at her friends statement, both now leaving Stephens office heading to their end of the lab. They still had a mountain of evidence to get through.

* * *

><p>"Ste?" Erica piped up, putting down the carton of Chinese on the coffee table.<p>

"What's up?" He stopped eating for a second, letting his gaze rake over her. The pulling in his chest tightened as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

"I need relationship advice." She broke their stare down, moving her fork around the fluffy rice so she didn't have to look at him before pushing it away from her. His heart sank and he felt sick. He didn't want to talk about what lucky bastard got to run his hands over her, make her moan and- "It's important to me." Damn. He didn't have a choice.

"Go on."

"There's this guy that I like, I think he likes me too. But I'm scared it will ruin the friendship we have if I make a move." his mind raced, wondering who this man was. Maybe he could find out who it was and run some checks at work.

The testosterone filled side of him wanted to tell her that whoever this guy was, he didn't deserve her. Then maybe he would run his hand along her thigh and see how she would react. She had been taunting him all night with that skirt, which seemed to ride up the more she fidgeted on the couch. Then the moral side of him appeared and he couldn't do that to her. "The guy would be an idiot not to go for yeh, lass. Just tell him."

"What should I say?"

Stephen shrugged, wondering why she was having this conversation with him not Bailey. He didn't want this conversation and he couldn't believe the next words out of his mouth. "Tell him you like him, simple as that."

Erica watched Stephen, every movement he made catching her eye. A man of pure muscle and power. His thick fingers wrapped around the green beer bottle, now almost empty. She watched him take the last mouthful, sucking a droplet of alcohol that clung to his top lip. From the moment she had caught sight of him, she was intrigued. He made her smile, laugh and he was always there for her. But time was passing, the longer she let things go as they were, the less likely he would ever see her as anything more than a friend. Bailey's words rung through her head, 'suck it up and tell him.' "I like you."

"Exactly, just like that. Yeh want another beer?" Stephen stood up from his couch, moving through to the small kitchen. Erica stared at him in disbelief, her mouth hanging slightly open. "Erica?" Snapping her mouth shut she shook her head. She didn't want another beer. Maybe he was letting her down easy. Maybe he wasn't attracted to her like she was to him. Maybe he did actually just want to be friends.

Erica turned to the door, a noise catching her attention. She tried to ignore it but the detective in her wouldn't let it go. Listening closer it sounded like people arguing. "Ste, can you hear that?" Standing up she headed for the door, wondering what people were arguing about in the middle of a corridor.

"Whoa lass, where yeh going?" Stephen rushed from the kitchen, setting down his beer on the coffee table as he passed it.

"To see what this fuss is about!" Erica tried to defend her actions. Someone might have been in trouble and she was there to help. Stephen didn't see it that way.

Grabbing hold of her wrist he pulled her back into the room. "No yeh don't."

"Ste!"

"They argue all the time, she kicks him out and he comes back the next morning." Erica glanced down at his big hand wrapped around her slim wrist. The size difference between them hit her hard. She had rarely studied how he looked against her, but now she was starting to pick up on tiny details. If only she could get her mind on track and get Stephen out of her system. He only saw her as a friend, now she had to move on. As soon as he let go of her wrist she grabbed her gun from her holster resting on the coffee table.

"Erica, don't." His voice was firm and demanding. He pointed his finger at her, warning her to stop. She backed up to the door, smiling as she gripped onto the door handle. Pulling it open she slipped out into the hallway. Hearing Stephen curse as she disappeared from his apartment, she couldn't help but smirk. She swore he often forgot that she was trained and spent every day doing this. Stopping just in front of the door she glanced down at her attire; black knee length skirt she had just changed into, bare feet and Stephen's Ireland rugby shirt. Maybe this wasn't her best idea, but as soon as she heard a gunshot echo through the corridor she was quick off her spot.

**A/N – Thank you ThePostmanStoleMyIdentity, ThatGirl54, celticfighter, MrsKiaFarrelly, MrsBarrett, moxxie23, Tannedperfection and JohnCenaFan for the awesome reviews. Karen and Lou x**


	3. Point Blank

**Chapter 3 – **_**Point Blank**_

Erica shot down the hall. Instinct taking over but she could hear Stephens heavy footsteps behind her. Slowing her steps she came to a man lying at an open apartment door; she didn't have to look twice to know who it was. Aiden; an ex boyfriend from a year ago. They had been on a few dates and gotten pretty close but that was all.

"Stay here, Ah'll check the building." Stephen ran off, his gun clutched between his hands. Erica didn't have to be told twice. Quickly she checked the apartment for anyone but no one was around. Rushing over to Aiden she dropped her gun, frantically her hands tried to find a pulse but there was nothing. Standing up she looked around but felt helpless as she couldn't do anything until backup came. She heard a few doors open, everything increasingly becoming a blur. Her usual calm and collected self was slipping away.

She spun around and stared at the few faces peering out of their apartment doors. She glanced down at her gun then at Aiden's lifeless body. Her badge was in Stephens apartment. "I'm from the New York crime lab. Please go back into your apartments." As if on cue Stephen appeared around the corner, instantly flashing his badge and repeating what she had just said.

"Yeh alright, lass?" Stephen pulled her towards him; she looked as if she had seen a ghost.

"Aiden James." She nodded towards the man on the ground. "An ex boyfriend. He was already dead, I couldn't save him."

"Ah've called for backup. Go back to me apartment." Stephen pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed the top of her head.

"No I'll stay and help with the clean up."

"Erica, don't argue with me. Ah'll come see yeh when everyone else gets here." Stephen picked up her gun from the floor and handed it back to her. With a slight push she reluctantly headed back to Stephens apartment. Time seemed to slow down. She ended up sat on the couch with her knees clutched to her chest. Eyes trained on the door waiting for Stephen to return. Desperately she wanted to call Bailey and hear her reassuring voice on the other end, but she knew that wouldn't happen. Bailey was on an early start in the morning unlike Erica which meant she would be sleeping. Letting her eyes slip shut she figured a bit of rest might do her some good.

Stephen stayed at the scene, waiting for John to arrive. He ended up trying to get everyone to stay in their apartments, but curiosity got the better of some people. Finally John arrived after some officers came to cordon off the scene.

"Stephen." Johns booming voice immediately caught Stephen's attention. "Where's Erica?"

"Ah sent her back to my apartment."

"Why?"

Stephen glanced down at Aiden's lifeless body. "He's an ex." John nodded mulling things over in his head.

"You know that means she can't work on this case."

"Yeah, ah I understand."

"Great. Tell Erica for me, and Stephen?" Stephen raised his eyebrows, willing John to continue. "Just be there for her, alright?"

"Yeh don't have to tell me twice, fella." Stephen stayed around a few minutes longer, John explained they would both have to give a statement as to what happened. In all honesty, he just wanted to get back to Erica to make sure she was okay.

He almost ran down the hallway then slowly pushed the door to his apartment open. He scanned the room and his eyes settled on the couch. Her perfect sleeping frame was curled up, her arms wrapped around a cushion. Quietly he shut the door behind him. He really didn't want to wake her up, but he knew he needed to get her back to her apartment and away from what was happening down the hallway. Crouching down beside her his big hand cradled her face, his thumb gently stroking across her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, smiling once she saw Stephen staring back at her.

"Hey." She mumbled then pulled his hand away from her face. She didn't let go as she sat upright. He took both of her hands into his, squeezing reassuringly.

"Ah'm taking yeh back to your place."

"Can't I just stay here?" She pouted and Stephen was about ready to give in but he shook his head.

"Sorry lass, John's orders." She let out a breathy sigh through her parted lips.

"Sorry dinner was ruined." Erica smiled and nodded to the chinese food on the table still. Stephen shook his head at her. He knew she was trying to cover up what she was really feeling and he didn't want that.

"It's okay to be upset yeh know." Erica nodded and smiled. Instead of answering she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

"I know. Thank you, Ste." Stephen wrapped his arms around her petite frame as she clung onto him. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Of course ah will, lass." Stephen let her hold onto him. He would be there for her, as long as she needed him.

At Erica's apartment, Stephen could tell she was still unsettled. Though he had tried to take her mind off everything on the ride over, it didn't seem to have any effect. Passing the scene as they left was hard. John had ushered her along, making sure she wouldn't stop to try and help out. John knew her too well; when there was a job to be done she would be there.

"Yeh have a pillow and blanket or something?" Stephen asked, nodding towards the couch. It wasn't that small but he was a big guy. It wouldn't be the most comfy of nights, but if Erica wanted him there he wouldn't think twice about leaving.

"Yeah." She smiled and gestured for him to follow her. He followed her to her bedroom where she closed the door behind him. "You really think I'd let you sleep on the couch?"

"Ah don't mind."

"Well I do, and it's my place so you're staying with me, I don't bite." Erica forced a smile. Stephen knew she was tired, having being at work all day then the event of the evening. Things were starting to take their toll. "I'm going to get a shower, you make yourself comfy."

Climbing into the bed after stripping off his shirt and pants, Stephen tried to make himself comfortable. He heard the water cut off after about five minutes and waited. His mind was fighting to just stop his irrational thoughts. She didn't want him and he was just a friend to her. But the truth was hard to swallow. He had thought about bringing it up, talking to her. Then he thought about kissing her soft pouty lips and testing her reaction. But at the back of his mind their friendship would be at stake. Add in the fact they were also work colleagues; that made everything just a little bit more complicated.

He watched the door open and swallowed hard as she walked into the room, Stephen tried to look anywhere but at her. She had tied her hair up into a messy bun, a few strands stuck to the back of her neck. A big fluffy white towel was wrapped around her, her hands clutching it tight to her chest. "I forgot to take some clothes with me."

"That's alright, lass." Smiling he couldn't take his eyes off her, but she seemed oblivious to his gaze. She left the room again, carrying a bundle of clothes. Stephen let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding. He pulled the duvet up he shuffled under the bed then turned the lamp off. The room still had a faint orange glow to it from the other lamp. He turned onto his side, hoping he would fall asleep and he wouldn't have to see Erica again. But he heard the door open, then felt the duvet move. He prayed she would curl up and sleep, but he sensed that wouldn't be the case.

"Ste?" He felt her hands press against his bare back and her breath fan across his skin.

"Yeah?" She tugged on his arm, making him roll onto his back. Erica didn't say anything else; instead she picked up his arm and buried herself into his side. Holding her close to him, he moved across the bed. His thumb rubbed small circles across her back, trying to offer her some form of comfort. He kissed her forehead gently and felt her sigh into his chest. He let his eyes slip shut, but he didn't know if he would ever end up falling asleep.

"Stephen." Sharply opening his eyes, he stared into crystal blue orbs. Erica was crouched beside him. "We have to go to work soon." He squeezed his eyes shut again and ran both hands across his face.

"What time is it?" His voice was rough and his body ached.

"Seven thirty." Erica smiled as Stephen groaned. She figured he wasn't a morning person. "I made you some coffee." Placing the mug on the bedside table, Erica stood up. She was dressed and ready to go. She needed something to get her mind of what happened the night before. If she wasn't allowed to work on that case she would buckle down and try and find a lead on the main case.

"Thanks."

"Well, I'll leave you to get ready. I've left some towels in the bathroom if you want a shower." With a strong smile and a nod of the head, Erica left the room. They weren't scheduled to be in work until 10am, but an early start never hurt anyone.

Stephen and Erica arrived at the lab just after eight. They both had plenty to work on but Erica needed to talk to bailey. Sat inside Stephens office on his comfy leather chair, she dialled her friends number and waited for her to pick up. They were always there for each other, no matter what.

* * *

><p>The gym was quiet when Bailey entered it. She favoured this particular establishment because it was off-the-grid, was within walking distance of her apartment and very few people knew about it. Although, one person too many knew about it, she found as she glanced across to the weightlifting section and saw Stu gritting his teeth as he forced the thick, heavy bar of the bench press above his head. Beads of sweat had formed along his forehead and she could see the tension appearing on his face, during his struggle with the load on the bar.<p>

Her eyes found the exit again and then drifted back to Stu and she worried her lower lip as she considered leaving before he saw her. The clunk of the bar meeting it's resting place resonated through the gym and Stu sat up, wiping his brow off with the towel that he picked up from the floor. He glanced around the gym, only one other patron aside from himself and then his eyes found Bailey. She gripped the straps of her bag tighter and moved it up her shoulder, nervously darting her eyes back and forth. Stu's lips turned up at the corners, his gaze roving across Bailey, clothed in her gym attire; consisting of a pair of black jogging pants, a light pink sports bra and a black unzipped hoodie over the top. Her jaw clenched but she was adamant she wasn't leaving.

Letting the bag slide from her shoulder, she dropped it at her feet and pulled her iPod out, strapping it to her arm with the little Velcro pocket she'd bought after slipping off her hoodie. Bailey dropped the soft fleecy material at her feet, making a beeline for the treadmills on the other side of the gym, having to pass Stu on the way.

"Bailey," he acknowledged her as she came closer to him, on a mission to reach the cardio equipment "How are you this fine morning?"

"Drop dead Bennett," Bailey hissed, knowing he was making fun of her. She narrowed her eyes at him on the way by and stepped up to her treadmill, throwing him another glare across her shoulder. She hopped on, cranking up the speed almost immediately so she was at a slow jog. Sticking in her ear-buds, the familiar beats of 'Paradise City' by Guns-and-Roses filled her ears. She smiled, thankful that the headphones would cancel out any unwanted noise, namely interruptions from Detective Stu Bennett.

Half an hour of jogging, slowly increasing the speed as she went, had Bailey's heart firmly racing. She thrived on the adrenaline that flowed through her veins, the feeling of achievement that she got when she met a goal she set for herself on the treadmill. Stepping down off of the running machine, she wiped the back of her arm across her forehead, ridding herself of the moisture that had accumulated there during her run, and made her way to the combat section. As she strapped on the red leather boxing gloves, her eyes darted around the gym, falling on Stu's long, lean legs. He had taken her place on one of the treadmills and was currently running at a consistently fast speed, the muscles of his back moving with every step forward his legs took. He bunched his arm up by his sides, pacing himself through his run. Bailey quirked a smile at him, it was unusual to see the brute running. He always took his time. At everything.

A hot shower was next on Bailey's agenda, and she stood under the hot spray, washing away all the grime and dirt that had formed on her skin from her workout. Her arms and legs ached deliciously but she smiled, knowing she'd pushed herself and the results were always worth it. Toweling herself off, she slipped into her uniform for the day; a pair of slim fit charcoal-heather coloured pants with a slightly bootcut leg, opening enough to look smart wth her black patent 3 inch high heels and teal silk blouse, the hem tucked beneath the waistband of the trousers with the sleeves folded up to her elbows. Holstering her gun on her right hip, over her trousers, Bailey blow dried her hair and pulled it back into a loose ponytail, allowing a few wispy bits to escape and curl around her cheeks. With a quick applicated of foundation, a slick of mascara and eyeliner and a swipe of clear gloss on her lips, she was ready to go.

She stepped back into the gym, noticing immediately that it was totally deserted. Her senses were now on high alert, carefully listening for anything out of the ordinary.

"You scrub up well, sweetheart," Bailey ground her teeth together at the sound of that voice. She turned around, continuing to walk slowly backwards, smiling sweetly at Stu. He'd also showered and now wore a pair of charcoal dress pants and a light grey shirt. His suit jacket was slung across his shoulder. She noticed he also had his gun holstered but it was out of her sight, kept snug against his back.

"You don't look too bad yourself," stopping where she was, she looked over him, noticing the stark contrast between his loose curls and the now slicked back image he took on when he was at work.

"Holy hell, you actually said something without biting my head off," his eyes widened comically.

"I'm always nice to you, Stuart," his brow furrowed at the use of his full name "I..." Bailey was cut off by the sound of her cell ringing. She fished it out of her bag, holding it up to see it was Erica who was phoning. Taking the call, she brought it to her ear "Hi Erica, what's up? Whoa, calm down honey. Yeah, uh-huh, really? Alright, we'll be there soon. Just stay calm."

"What's wrong?" Stu asked, concern etched on his face. He stepped closer to Bailey, placing one large palm on her shoulder "Is Erica alright?"

"Yeah...ummmm...I mean, I don't know. There's been a murder in Stephen's apartment building. I...I don't..."

"It's alright. C'mon, I'll drive."

* * *

><p>Bailey stormed into the shooting range inside of the lab, slamming the door behind her. Her head was pounding, Erica's voice running through her head. Stu had driven Bailey directly to the lab, where she found her friend and partner unusually calm but traumatized. There had been a shooting in the apartment building and Erica had found the victim, only to her horror, she found the victim was an ex-boyfriend Aiden James.<p>

Bailey vaguely remembered Erica mentioning an Aiden around a year ago but she never knew all that much about him. Erica liked to keep her private life outwith the lab and outwith wandering eyes. Which was understandable. Too many couples had floundered from the pressures of both being police officers. It paid to keep things out of the line of fire.

She was struggling to help her friend. John had been to the scene and instantly removed Erica from the whole case, leaving Bailey working on her own. Of course, until Stu had offered up his services. And now Bailey was being forced to work hand-in-hand with the English brute, which was really the last thing she needed.

Grabbing the ear-mufflers, she pulled them on and picked up the small handgun that was placed on the table in front of her. Hitting the red button, the paper outline of a human figure whooshed back, fluttering in the small breeze the movement caused and halted around 15 feet away from her. Staring through the open glassless window, Bailey aimed her gun at the target spots on the paper, firing off round after round, piercing tiny holes through each spot she aimed for. She let out a breath, reloading the gun and hitting the button to bring the paper back. She unclipped the torn sheet and threw it behind her, picking up a clean sheet to hook back on. A familiar scent wafted in through her nostrils and they flared at such an intrusion.

"You following me?" Bailey quipped, not looking over her shoulder. She finished hooking the paper to the clips and pressed the button, sending it flying back to around 25 feet this time.

"You can't hide in here, sweetheart," Stu's drawl was a little quieter through the ear-protecters but this time she did look at him. Stu leaned back against the frame of the door, his large arms now covered by the thick suit jacket he'd had thrown across them at the gym earlier that morning, his green eyes twinkling mischievously in the dim light.

"This is therapeutic," she spun back around to face the shooting range again. Curving one palm around the butt of the gun, she steadied her grip by wrapping her free hand around the one that was on the gun. Closing one eye, she eyed her target and fired off three rounds, blowing holes directly through the shoulder, arm and just below the chest of the outline.

"You need to keep your back straight," Bailey's jaw slackened as she felt Stu directly behind her, his wide chest pressing into her shoulders. His thick arms surrounded her, covering her hands and forcing her to take her stance again "Lower your shoulders," he dipped his head, blowing air; so hot it penetrated through Bailey's thin silk blouse, across her shoulder and down her neck. He pressed his cheek against the pulled back strands of her hair "Take a deep breath," he released Bailey's hands and they quivered slightly before she regained her momentum and remembered to squeeze tightly around the gun. Stu's palms drifted up across the silk covering her shoulders and down the expanse of her back, stroking across the shiny material until he reached her hips "Breathe out," the breath slowly slipped from between Bailey's parted lips "And squeeze the trigger," a shot was fired from the gun, sending a bullet through the spot between the figure's eyes.

Her shoulders fell, allowing the tension to leave her body but Stu never moved.

"Ummm...thanks," he moved to her side and Bailey turned to face him, raising an eyebrow as she tipped her head back to see his face.

"With a little guidance, you'll be blowing people's brains out before you know it," Stu's thin lips lifted into an arrogant smirk.

"Ahhhh!" Bailey grinned "And you think you're the one to teach me?" she asked, stepping closer and pushing herself onto her tip-toes in an effort to get closer to him.

"Well," he drawled "I am a crack-shot. Those little tips I just gave you, landed you a perfect shot."

"Oh, you mean like this?" Bailey turned the gun on it's side, pulling the trigger and firing a bullet into the paper outline.

"You missed," he stared down into her eyes, holding her gaze within his own.

"Look closer," she murmured, licking her lips softly. Stu turned his head to stare at the floating bit of paper, his eyes finding the bullet hole. It had pierced the paper directly between the legs of the outline, exactly where the figure's crotch would be "I never miss."

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Thank you wades wife, DeansTrueGirl, moxxie23 and ThatGirl54 for the lovely reviews :). Karen and Lou x**


	4. Make Me Up

**Chapter 4 – **_**Make Me Up**_

_Previously – Christian Thomas was found murdered in his apartment in Brooklyn, on the same night Evan Jacobs was found in the East River. The third murder of Aiden James, Erica's ex-boyfriend, renders her useless on the crime scene leaving Stu and Bailey to oversee things. _

Opening the door, Bailey left the shooting range room and set off down the corridor, back in the direction of the lab.

"Bailey?" glancing over her shoulder, Bailey saw John approach her, a serious expression etched on his face "Feeling stressed kid?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she breathed out harshly.

John pointed in the direction of the shooting range door "You just..."

"Bailey!" Stu's booming voice reached her ears as he emerged from the shooting range behind her, approaching both John and her.

John stared between Stu and Bailey, a thoughtful expression on his face "Did you just...and he just?" he shook his head as he pointed between the two, a sigh leaving his mouth "Never mind. I need the two of you to go to Stephen's apartment and help with the clean-up. That evidence needs processed ASAP!"

The car drew up alongside Stephen's apartment building. Bailey stared out from the passenger seat as Stu shifted the car into park. She swallowed thickly as she watched the nosy bystanders who had gathered nearby, hoping to get a glimpse of anything. A cordon had been set up, manned by officers of the NYPD whom Stu ranked over.

"Bailey?" she turned to glance at Stu, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. We should get this done," she pushed the door open, placing one heeled shoe onto the sidewalk. Sliding out, Bailey retrieved her case from the back seat and turned around as she shut the door. A gasp fell from her lips as she found Stu directly behind her, his large frame almost pressing her back into the car.

"Just stay calm and get through this. You have to. For Erica. C'mon," he placed one large palm against Bailey's back and ushered her towards the apartment building and under the cordon "Go ahead," he pointed to the door of the building. Bailey nodded, for once allowing herself to swallow any retort she might have had and followed his instructions, turning and walking inside the apartment. From behind her she heard Stu's voice "I don't want any unwanted traffic in my crime scene. Make sure no one goes through without my approval. And get rid of these people!"

Bailey took the stairs, following the path of officers already questioning some of the other residents and made her way to Stephen's floor. She spotted the area where Aiden's body had been; now cleared and cordoned off with evidence markers. The floor had been cleared of everybody except police and CSI's which was a good thing; the officers could do their job without having to worry about anyone getting in the way and trampling over evidence.

Spotting a blonde haired man further down the hall, Bailey made her way in that direction. He lifted his head at the sound of her heels on the wooden floor and smiled.

"Darren," Bailey grinned at him "I didn't know you'd be here."

He shrugged "John mentioned the case and said he needed some help. When I heard your name, I couldn't refuse," he winked at her as he put a swab into the case for processing.

"Bailey?" looking over her shoulder, she saw Stu there. She nodded and he moved down the hall towards her and Darren "You guys need to work fast on this. No time wasting," he glared in Darren's direction.

"Sure thing boss," Darren smirked at him and turned back to Bailey. Bailey heard the sound of Stu grinding his teeth behind her. She smiled at him and he tipped his head in acknowledgement before disappearing back down the hall "What's up with sasquatch?"

"Nothing. Let's get to work," Bailey grabbed her camera and hooked the strap around her neck.

They started at opposite sides of the corridor, working towards each other to meet in the middle, Bailey photographing and collecting anything she came across; including bullet fragments and impressions of two bullet holes she found in the walls of the corridor. She took snaps of the evidence Darren was collecting as well, enjoying the little flirtatious comments he dropped into the stilted conversation they shared.

"Does the apartment still need to be checked?" Bailey asked him as they stood in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by yellow evidence markers.

"I think so. It's been checked by NYPD but I don't think any evidence has been lifted."

She nodded and they both lifted their kits. They entered the apartment, both on guard even though it had been checked. Bailey kept one hand covering her gun which was still holstered on her hip.

They set to work, pulling on fresh pairs of clinical gloves and thoroughly searching the apartment from top to bottom. There was very little evidence to pick up on; a broken cup in the kitchen, a smashed photo frame in the living room but nothing groundbreaking.

Bailey moved into the bathroom. She glanced about, everything seemed fairly ordinary. Pulling open the mirrored cabinet above the sink, she rooted through the products inside: toothpaste, soap, shaving gel, prescription pills for sleeping and a skin infection - again nothing out of the ordinary. The sink was clean and tidy except for a tube of red lipstick, pushed up to the max. It had been used vigorously and was worn down. She took a picture of it and then picked it up, placing it in an evidence bag.

Turning to leave the bathroom, a flash of the same red caught her eye. She stepped over the bathroom rug and whipped the shower curtain back.

"Darren. Come and take a look at this!" she hollered.

He stepped into bathroom a mere few seconds later. She moved aside to show him what she had found "What the hell is that?" he asked as he came closer, holding the curtain back as Bailey took several snaps of it.

"It's lipstick," she smirked a little when he furrowed his eyebrows at her "Not that I couldn't tell anyway but this pretty much confirmed my suspicions," she held up the evidence bag with the ruined tube inside.

"Unfaithful?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her "Any idea?" he queried as she stuck an evidence marker to the wall.

"I might have one. I'll need to check some stuff though," she mused. Taking a swab from her kit, she took a sample of it so she could be 100% sure it matched the tube in the bag.

Both of them left the bathroom, Bailey making her way into the bedroom. Darren returned to whatever he'd been doing before she called on him.

The bedroom was fairly tidy but small. The main feature was the double bed - the sheets flipped back and ruffled lazily. Bailey stepped up to the chest of drawers, lifting the numerous sheets of paper and bottles lying there. She examined them, taking swabs and dusting them for finger prints.

A sudden gust of wind whooshed through the room, disturbing the papers and blowing them off of the top of the chest of drawers and scattering them over the floor. Huffing, she rushed to the window, trying to tug it closed.

It seemed to be stuck. She tugged harder, groaning slightly. Leaning into the open frame, she pushed at the slats that held the window open "C'mon!" she groaned, pushing her palms against the runners. A yelp sounded from her mouth when a small flock pigeons flew up from the fire escape, startling her and making her jump back, smacking her head hard on the window "Ouch!"

Placing a hand to the back of her head, she stumbled back.

"Are you okay?" Darren asked from behind her. She nodded which sent a wave of pain shooting through her head. Hearing footsteps from behind, both Bailey and Darren turned to see Stu running in.

"I heard you scream. What happened? What the hell did you do?" he addressed Darren, his hand reaching for his gun.

"I didn't do anything man!" he protested immediately "She..."

But Stu cut him off "Bailey? Are you alright?"

He approached her, placing his strong hands onto her shoulders. She looked up at him, wincing even more. Bringing her hand away from her head, she opened her palm, showing him her glove which was now speckled with light droplets of blood "I hit my head," her speech was slower than normal "Stupid birds," she pointed lazily to the window "Gave me a fright."

"Okay. C'mon sweetheart let's get you out of here," he swung his arm around her and she fell into him, gripping the back of his suit jacket for support, tugging on the material with her hand.

"Wait! You can't just..."

"Get out of my way mate! She's bleeding and I'm taking her back to the lab!" Stu glared at Darren with everything he could muster. He moved, taking Bailey with him. Closing her kit, he scooped it up before returning his attention to Bailey "Let's get you out of here."

* * *

><p>"Need a hand?" Erica asked, a smile on her face and hope in her eyes.<p>

"Lass, yeh know yeh not allowed to work on this case." A sigh escaped her lips and Stephen spun around on his chair. "Don't yeh have anything to look at with Bailey?"

"She's with Stu, I'm waiting for her to come back and I'm waiting for some DNA samples. This is my lunch break."

"Then why aren't yeh having lunch?" Stephen asked and Erica knew that tone that was hidden within his strong Irish accent. Concern and worry.

"I'm not hungry." She merely stated, knowing full well Stephen would list all the reasons why her diet should be precise.

"Erica!" John stood by the door eyeing her up and the evidence that Stephen was sifting through. "You're not on that case, don't make me put you on paperwork. I know how much you hate your desk."

"Yes Sir." Erica mumbled.

"Almost as much as you love Stephens." Erica's eyes widened and John smirked. He shook his head at the pair before carrying on down the corridor. "Back to work." He shouted just as he disappeared out of sight.

"I hate not being able to help you." Erica pursed her lips, the thought of actually going for her lunch disappearing with Stephens next words.

"Yeh might actually." Stephen gestured for her to come closer as he spun back around on his chair. "Take a look at this."

Erica watched the security tape from the apartment of the Christian Thomas case. "Wait, I thought this tape was tampered with?"

"Ah worked me magic." Stephen grinned as Erica looked down at him for split second before turning her attention back to what was playing.

"Whoa, whoa. Go back." Erica stared at the screen. Eyes trained to detect anything out of place. "The wife goes up to the apartment, but doesn't leave the same way. There she is." Erica pointed to the screen and the blurry image of the wife walking past the complex's glass doors outside the building.

"And the only other way out-"

"Fire exits." Erica grinned, pulling Stephen up from his chair. "You're coming with me."

_1pm - Midwood, Brooklyn_

Stephen's heavy footsteps echoed in the small alleyway beside the apartment complex. Erica followed behind him, glancing upwards at the eight storey apartment complex.

"Yeh fancy going up there?" Erica turned to Stephen who had stopped walking and parked himself in the middle of the alleyway.

"Oh I see, you're scared of heights." Stephen shook his head at her ludicrous comment. "Have fun rummaging through the dumpsters."

"Wait a minute, lass..." Stephen frowned as Erica made her way towards the fire exit. He eyed the three large dumpsters lining the side of the building; just his luck.

Erica only had to go up the first three flights of the fire escape, though it was quite a task with her kit. She left it on the first floor and looked over the railing to see Stephen skirting around the dumpster. A couple of uniformed officers were making sure that no one interfered with their work.

Pulling out a pair of latex gloves, Erica slipped them on and began scanning the area for any evidence. The first two flights on the fire escape held nothing of importance; however the third was a little more interesting.

Erica inspected the handrail, kneeling down to get a better look at the substance on the cold metal. Erica immediately knew it was lipstick, and she only hoped it would match the lipstick that had been scrawled across the bathroom in the murdered man's apartment. Satisfied with finding some fingerprints too, Erica carefully made her way back down to the ground.

"I found lipstick and a some fingerprints." Erica sighed as she set her kit down. She'd had a mini workout getting up and down those ladders. She brushed her jeans off and glanced upwards, a gun being dangled in her line of sight.

"Ah found a gun." Erica glanced upwards to see Stephen smirking. "Ah win."

"Fine, you win this round." Erica eyed the gun then took it from Stephen. "Where the hell is she?"

Stephen knew she was referring to Jennifer Thomas, the wife of Christian Thomas and their first suspect. Neighbours had been happy to give out the information they knew on her, which unfortunately for the crime lab was nothing. She'd gone AWOL since they'd found her husband's body. "We'll get her lass."

"This whole thing with the lipstick though, two people worked on this together. The time of death of Evan is before the time of death of Christian. If we find out who killed Evan, maybe that will lead us to Jennifer?" Erica was thinking out loud, but she really wanted Stephen to give her some answers.

"Let's see if we get anything from these first." Stephen took the gun back, slipping it into an evidence package. "Bailey might have found somethin' too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Thank you ResplendentAnarchist, wades wife, peeps8705, ThatGirl54 and DeansTrueGirl for the lovely reviews. We are SO sorry it's taken so long to finally update this. You probably don't even remember what had happened, oops :P! We won't leave it as long next time! Lou and Karen x**


	5. Once Bitten Twice Shy

**Chapter 5 - **_**Once Bitten Twice Shy**_

Bailey flinched as John swiped the swab soaked with antiseptic across the cut on the back of her head. She tried to pull away but he clamped a big hand on her shoulder, his grip tight, forcing her to sit still.

"Nice bedside manner you've got there boss," Bailey growled at him, anger clawing at her veins. She was more pissed off at herself for letting a stupid thing like this set her back. It was just a scratch, hardly life threatening, and yet she'd needed Stu to almost carry her out of the apartment block like a little kid.

"It's one of my better talents," he muttered with a smirk twisting his lips, swiping the swab against her head again, forcing another small whimper from her lips "Now would you sit still. The more you move, the longer this will take."

"Fine," Bailey gritted her teeth, blowing out a breath and gripping the side of the leather covered bed inside the first-aid room at the lab.

"Are you going to tell me how you got this gash then?" John muttered, rifling through the kit for the glue that they used to seal cuts up. Ideally, he'd have preferred to stitch her head up but he knew Bailey would never allow it, her fear of having needles anywhere near her body kicking in full force "Tip your head forward kid," John placed his hands on either side of Bailey's head, her chestnut locks now gathered on top of her head in a messy bun, kept away from the gash. Blood had already soaked into some of the wispy strands which hung down the back of her thin neck but John just moved them out of the way.

"Didn't that big brute tell you what happened?" she murmured back, doing as John asked and tipping her head forward. A twinge of pain went through her neck but she forced herself to keep still, to allow him to seal with the cut.

"Why are you so hard on him?" John asked, finally fishing out the tube of glue and unscrewing the cap "This might sting," he added squeezing the medicinal glue into the gash on her head.

"Thanks for the…ouch! Fucking hell John!" Bailey's first instinct was to jump away from him but that big hand was there on her shoulder, holding her squirming body still. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes as her skin began to knit together once more, the blood flow stopping as the gash sealed up. The brunette's back stiffened when she felt the soft breeze of cool air across the gash as John blew softly on her wound. His hand had moved from her shoulder and he now cupped her neck with both of his hands, holding her head in place as the glue set. Fumbling in the first aid kit for a plaster, John pressed it across her wound, keeping it covered from the air.

Moving around the bed, he came face-to-face with one of his former protégées.

"Now that you've done whining, answer my question?"

"Which one?" Bailey raised an eyebrow, chewing the inside of her lower lip, her hands still curled around the edge of the medical bed.

"Bailey," John sighed, shaking his head "Why the hell are you so hard on Stu? He's just looking out for you."

"More like sticking that nose of his in where it's not wanted. I don't need to be looked after. It takes me 7 minutes to run a mile; 9 when I'm in heels, I've caught some of the most infamous killers in this city," she hopped off the bed, scrunching her eyes shut as a wave of dizziness swept across her. Steadying herself, she opened her eyes to look at her boss once more "And I can shoot a bullet into someone's skull from 50ft away. I don't need to be looked after."

John let out a deep breath "You've got a very skewed perspective of how the world works kid," he shook his head at her "Look, I want you to go home and get some rest."

Bailey was already shaking her head at him, her eyes wide with surprise at being told to go home "No, I'm fine. I'll be fine John."

"I said, go home Bailey. I don't need you working with a head injury. You think I didn't pick up on little stagger there huh?" he grinned "Don't be a smart ass and just do what you're told for once in your life!"

"But-"

"No buts. You're not fit to be at work. Now, I've already asked Stu to drive you home," John held up his hand to Bailey when he saw the furious look etched on her face "I won't hear any more on it. Go home!" he narrowed his eyes at the younger Detective "Oh and take two of these and call me in the morning," he winked at her as he handed her two white pills - painkillers she guessed.

Bailey was furious as she left the first-aid room. How dare he treat her like such a child? He'd been mentoring her for so long but when was he going to realise that she didn't need him anymore? She was strong enough to stand on her own two feet; Erica was too, but John did not seem to understand that. No one understood that Bailey could take care of herself!

"Are you ready to go?" Stu's voice interrupted Bailey's meaningful thought path as she stormed through the lab. She stopped and spun around to see him standing just off to her left hand side. He had a look of worry etched on his face, like he was thinking something bad had happened. But a moment later, it was gone "John asked me to drive you home."

"I know he did," Bailey hissed "You'll know when I'm ready to go!"

Turning back around, she stalked off, knowing she'd find comfort in the only other place she could go; the shooting range.

* * *

><p>"Guess what?" Stephen spun around on the stool he was perched on as he heard Erica's voice. She was walking straight towards him, a file clutched in her hand. "The fingerprints on the fire escape had no hits in AFIS, but they are a match to the finger prints found in the apartment."<p>

"So it's the wife." Stephen concluded, not helping with Erica's frustration.

"Who else, but we can't prove that until we get our hands on her fingers!" Erica braced herself on the counter top, looking at all of the evidence spread out. She turned to Stephen who was staring at her with a sheepish smile. "What?

"Someone pissed yeh off?" Stephen asked; Erica's feisty side only usually came out when she had to question a perpetrator.  
><strong><br>**Erica took a steady breath, the amount of work she had on was overwhelming. Add in the fact tracing down Jennifer Thomas was becoming more and more difficult, things weren't getting better.

"Yeh alright?" Stephen's tone changed, now more concerned; he brushed his hand against Erica's back.

Nodding and letting her lips curve into a small smile, Erica said, "Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Yeh want to talk about it?" Thinking for a moment, Erica wondered if she should voice her thoughts out loud. How she didn't want to spend her nights alone in her apartment. Having Stephen spend the night at her place had left her wanting him more than she'd ever imagined possible. He'd held her tight and made her feel safe, making all of her worries go away.

"Maybe we could go out for drinks later?" Erica suggested, not wanting to discuss things in the confines of the lab. She stepped out of his reach and moved over to the table of evidence to set the file down.

"Alright, lass."

"Excuse me. I've got the evidence collected from the Aiden James case." Both Erica and Stephen turned around in surprise, not expecting to be joined by anyone else.

"Thanks Darren." Stephen hopped off the stool and took the evidence from the young man.

"Where's Bailey?" Erica asked, knowing that she had been assigned to search for evidence at Aiden's apartment.

"She's getting checked over."

"Whoa." Erica rushed over to Darren, stopping him from leaving the room. "What do you mean?"

"She hit her head, nothing too serious." Darren moved around the blonde woman, offering her a reassuring smile.

Erica turned to Stephen, wanting him to say something about the news. "Yeh know what this means."

"Stephen, do you think Bailey is okay?"

"He said she was." Erica huffed as she watched Stephen cross the room, inspecting what had been brought in. Shaking her head to rid her mind of any awful thoughts, Erica moved back to the evidence. Bailey was a tough girl; she'd be just fine.

She picked up a tube of reds lipstick, pleased that the sample she'd found on the fire escape was a match to that in the bathroom. "I think this is your colour." Erica grinned at Stephen from across the room. She expected him to laugh, but instead he just looked up, discomfort etched on his face. "What's wrong?" Erica swallowed hard as Stephen picked up something from his box of evidence.

Once in reach, Stephen took the tube of lipstick from Erica. She saw what was in his other hand and couldn't quite believe her luck. "It looks like these cases might be connected."

Stephen eyed the two tubes of lipstick and the photo clipped to the small evidence bag. Both the exact same brand and colour. The writing on the wall of the bathroom only sealed the deal. "Ah'm sorry, lass."

"It's not your fault." Erica smiled, moving away from the table of evidence. She knew that she was off the case; her relationship with Aiden in the past would be a conflict of interests. There were rules she had to follow and this was one of them.

* * *

><p>"You know ballistics is my territory right?" Erica quipped as she walked into the small shooting range, watching Bailey push the magazine into the gun gripped in her hand without thought.<p>

"I know." Bailey smiled, but it was a smile that was put on for Erica's sake.

"You seem to be in here a lot, you want to talk about anything?" Erica continued to press on, knowing to tread carefully. Having been friends for so long, she knew what would make Bailey snap and shut her out. "I spoke to Darren earlier. He told me you hurt your head. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You know Bailey, we have to communicate. Especially with our line of work, we don't want any crossed wires." Erica's words struck a nerve in Bailey. She wouldn't be guilt tripped into spilling her feelings.

"If I had something to tell you then I would." Bailey slipped the ear protectors on and shot a few rounds at the target. Sensing Erica wouldn't leave her alone, she set the gun and ear protectors down.

"Quit with the bullshit." Erica knew this was the only way she'd get something out of her friend.

"I banged my head and Stu helped me." Crossing her arms over her chest, Bailey watched Erica take in that information.

"That's all?"

"That's all." Bailey repeated, hoping it would shut Erica up for a little while at least.

"And why does that have you so crabby?"

Bailey scoffed, and shook her head at the ludicrous question Erica had thrown her way. "Maybe because it hurts like hell."

"Or because you let Stu help you." Erica smiled when she saw a flash of vulnerability behind Bailey's eyes. "I know you Bailey, and considering how you're acting with me right now, I can't imagine what Stu had to deal with."

Bailey's silence gave Erica all the answers she needed.

"I hoped you thanked him for helping you." Erica started towards the door, "Oh and I'm off the case so have fun working with Stephen."

* * *

><p>The tension between Stu and Bailey in the car was palpable. Bailey was still seething that John had sent her home, especially because he'd asked the English brute to take her. She was perfectly capable of driving herself, she did not need someone holding her hand.<p>

"How's your head?" Stu asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Still in one piece, thankfully," Bailey replied tartly. She definitely was not in the mood for small talk. She just wanted to get home.

"I see you've not lost your acid tongue. That's a good sign."

"What is your problem?" Bailey turned to him "Why are you constantly butting your nose into my business? It's as if you get a rise out of watching me get so angry."

"Don't flatter yourself sweetheart. If I wasn't the officer residing over these cases, then we'd have nothing to do with each other," Stu already knew he was lying through his teeth. He cared about her. When he'd seen the blood on her glove earlier, he'd been hit full force in the gut with worry, with a need to make sure she was okay. "Why do you always get so wound up Bailey? You're acting like a childish brat, all because Cena sent you home to make sure you're okay. Can't you accept that people care about you?"

"I don't need anyone mollycoddling me! I can take care of myself!"

Stu pulled the car to a stop, startling Bailey.

"We're here. You should get some rest. Call me if you need a ride to work and I'll come and get you," his words were monotone, as if he'd lost all interest in speaking to her at all.

Fear welled in Bailey's gut. If she couldn't fight with Stu, who could she get her anger out at?

Stu gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckle hold. He was beyond pissed off at her. She was constantly boiling over at the slightest things. He could understand that she'd had a difficult morning; first with Erica's traumatic experience the previous night, Bailey wanted to be there for her friend but now her head injury was preventing that. But she hadn't even apologised or said thank you.

"Thank you," Bailey's words were barely more than a whisper. They burned in her throat as she forced them out, not really wanting to say them but knowing she had to.

"Excuse me?" Stu's voice rose an octave or two, startled at what she had said.

"I'm sorry," Bailey swallowed thickly "I know that you helped me when I hit my head. It's only fair that I thank you."

Stu was silent for a few moments before he answered her "How did that taste?" a smirk was pulling at his lips.

"Bitter!" she ground out, a smile tipping the corners of her own lips up "Which is why you won't hear it again," she laughed softly.

"Twice was plenty Bailey," he nodded at her "Would you like me to pick you up in the morning?"

Chewing the inside of her lower lip, Bailey nodded "That would be nice, thank you."

"Oh there it is," he teased "Another thank you. You better watch yourself sweetheart or you'll be making a habit out of this."

"In your dreams Bennett! What time do you start tomorrow?" Bailey enquired, pulling at the door lock to open the car door.

"I'm on another early start. I'll come and get you about 7 if that's alright?"

"That's fine. I'll see you then," Bailey got out of the car and closed the door. Stepping around the car and onto the sidewalk, she watched Stu drive away with a tiny wave of his hand out of his window. Smiling into the sunshine, Bailey made her way up to her apartment, retrieving her mail out of her mailbox first.

As she entered her apartment, she rifled through the letters, one in particular catching her eye.

'Department of United States Army' was stamped on top of it.

Her breath caught in her throat.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Thank you dashingbailey, ResplendentAnarchist and Lou221B for the reviews :) Karen and Lou x**


	6. Hole In The Head

_**Hole In The Head**_

Stephen stood leant against the wall in the foyer of the Crime Scene Investigation department, nodding in greeting to co-workers that passed. He'd been waiting for Erica to finish an important meeting with John for twenty minutes now. He knew exactly what he'd be telling her – no more working on the case even though she already knew that. Maybe she wouldn't be too disheartened by the prospect of working without Bailey. The two worked wonders together and had done for years now. It wouldn't be long until they were working together again and back solving cases.

The elevator doors on the other side of the lobby slid open and Erica stepped out. She immediately scanned the lobby and smiled as she saw him. He could tell that she was forcing a smile, trying to put on a front for his benefit. Setting off towards her he met her half way.

"How did it go?" Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Stephen wanted to be there for her. Like a friend would be. He sighed at that thought and tried to stop himself about thinking _what if_. He wasn't that kind of guy – if he wanted something he went for it. Kind of how he got this job in the first place.

"As well as it could have. I just hope Bailey is fine with this extra workload."

"She can cope lass, don' yeh worry." Stephen squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Now abou' that drink?"

"You still want to go right?"

The amount of worry and self-doubt behind her tone made him worry. He knew she was a strong woman – she wouldn't be in the field if she wasn't – but seeing this side of her made him worry. It also made him want to take her home and protect her. Yeah, he was that kind of guy.

"Ah sure do." His grip around her tightened a little and she looked up towards him. "Where do yeh want to go?"

"The usual?"

"Don't yeh just be sayin' that to please me, lass." The laugh that escaped her was music to his ears. As long as he made her happy and could take her mind off other things, he was doing his job right.

The Blarney Rock pub was traditional Irish and run by an Irish family. That was one of the reasons he loved it. It was a home from home. "It's been a long day, so just shut up."

Erica smiled and threaded her arm through Stephens as they made their way out of the building. It wasn't long before they were in a cab and heading down to Penn Station. It was only a short walk to the lively pub – Stephen wouldn't say anything but he was glad Erica had suggested it. Once settled into a booth with drinks on the table, he wanted to make his move but it didn't feel right. Not with everything Erica was handling at the moment.

"Why did John want to see yeh and Bailey the other day?" Stephen had tried to keep the conversation light, but Erica was still distant with him – something he really wasn't used to. He shuffled closer to Erica in the small booth so he could hear her better.

"He gave us a lovely lecture on why we don't leave crime scenes."

"Yeh left a crime scene?" Stephen was stunned. Erica wasn't one to throw out the rule book.

"It wasn't like there was no one there." Erica gave him a stern look and he debated whether to continue or not.

"Still-"

"I know how it sounds Stephen, and I've already had my telling off."

He shouldn't have continued. Something was going on - further than having the meeting with John - he just wondered if Erica would ever tell him. "Are you sure nothing's going on?"

Erica stared at him for a moment, an answer running around in her head for sure. Whether it would be the truth or not was another matter.

"Yeah, everything is fine." Erica took a sip of her wine and eventually said, "Have you gotten any further with the lipstick killers?"

"Yeh seriously asking me that?" Stephen shook his head in disbelief, shocked that she'd consider asking him.

"I just wondered-"

"Erica, yeh know the protocol." He hated being harsh with her, but this was work and he wasn't about to get both of them reprimanded. "Keep wondering. Yeh no' involved in this case for a reason."

"I know I'm not Stephen, but I still might be able to-"

"No yeh won't, lass." Stephen placed a finger over Ericas lips to kindly shut her up. "Don' yeh even think abou' finishing that sentence."

Erica tugged on his arm to make him pull his hand away. She sighed and looked dejected. Something was on her mind and it wasn't to do with the case she'd just been pulled off. He glanced around the busy pub, the noise of the punters around them making it hard to have a coherent conversation.

"Finish yeh drink, ah'm taking yeh back to yer apartment." Stephen grabbed his beer bottle and downed the last of the contents.

"Why?" Erica rushed up to follow Stephen out of the bar. They'd only been there half an hour but that seemed to be long enough.

"We need to have a serious talk."

Stephen stopped outside of the bar as Erica furiously tugged on his arm. "Stephen this is ridiculous. I promise I won't mention the case again."

"This isn't about the case, Erica." Stephen spoke a little louder than he wanted to - passers-by sending them a cautious glance.

"Then what is this about?" Erica stroked her hand down Stephens arm before taking hold of his hand. A futile attempt to get him to see straight and talk to her. Ironic. He cupped Ericas face with his big hands, all intentions of showing her what this was about.

His phone ringing in his pocket made him close his eyes in frustration. "I have to take this."

"I know you do." Erica stepped back from him with a smile on her face.

Stephen pulled his phone out from his jacket pocket, seeing Johns name flashing at him. He answered but not before giving Erica an apologetic look. "How can ah help yeh?"

"We have Melanie Wright in custody - Aiden James' girlfriend."

"Ah'll be over in a few."

"Great, there's DNA and fingerprints to put through the database."

"Something has come up." Stephen kissed Erica on the top of her head before stepping to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab.

"And let me guess, I can't be of any help." Erica was right behind him, arms crossed over her chest.

"Aiden James' girlfriend is in custody." Erica's lips formed a perfect 'o' with the news. "Ah'm meeting Stu at the station for questioning."

A cab swiftly pulled up to the sidewalk and that was the end of their little night out. That was the nature of the job though – anything could happen at any time of the day.

* * *

><p>Bailey was already in the lab when Stu arrived, his nostrils flaring in anger when he saw her. The Englishman narrowed his eyes at the brunette as he took in her appearance. Her locks were cascading down her back and she wore a pair of grey pants which flared out from the knee downwards, a black satin string top and a matching grey jacket. Her red rimmed eyes found him from across the lab and she smiled almost serenely at him.<p>

"You were supposed to wait for me." He commented loosely as he approached her, his 6ft 5" frame towering easily over the smaller Detective. Bailey glanced up at him, placing her hands flat down on the glass surface of the work table in front of them.

Her throat bobbed slightly as she swallowed. "I know I was." She told him.

"Are you okay?" Concern suddenly flooded Stu's voice and he reached out, his large fingers curling gently around Bailey's shoulder.

"Fine." Bailey replied, her gaze wandering off to a spot far away in the middle of the lab before she redirected it back to Stu. "I'm okay, really." She added "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep all that well. My head gave me some gip." She lied.

"You're sure?" Stu dipped his head slightly so that he could make eye contact with Bailey.

"Positive." Bailey smiled sweetly at him. "I've got some work to do on the case. I'll let you know if I need any help."

Stu waited by her side for a few moments until he was sure she was alright before he strolled out of the lab, his head held high. Something niggled deep in his gut. Bailey was normally so feisty Getting that apology out of her the previous day had been like pulling teeth out. And now she was acting timid and sweet. There was definitely something not right and Stu had no intentions of stopping until he found out what was wrong with the brunette.

* * *

><p>Stephen eyed everyone around the conference table – there was one person missing. Through the big glass windows he could see Erica in the ballistics lab, working on a case with a temp. He had to admit she didn't look as down as she did the night before, but a good night's sleep could do wonders.<p>

"Stephen! Eyes off Erica and focus." John's booming voice shattered Stephens thoughts. He quickly glanced around the room to see all eyes were now on him.

"Sorry boss." Turning his attention to the board of evidence behind John, Stephen tried to focus his thoughts. They had a killer to catch – no time for messing around.

"The first two murders are connected, one led to the other suggesting this was planned." John started, pointing at each of the victims on the evidence board. "Christian Thomas – cause of death was blunt force trauma. No sign of struggle or defence suggests that he knew the killer."

"But the door was kicked in." Bailey pointed out, "So maybe they wanted it to look like they didn't know him."

"The first crime scene led us to Evan Jacobs – Cause of death was a gunshot wound, straight through the heart." John pointed to Stephen then said, "The last call from the phone found at the scene was to Christian Thomas."

"We're still trying to locate his wife – her place of work tells us she was away on business. She hasn't answered any calls and no one can get in touch with her." Bailey cast a glance towards Stephen before continuing, "But she's in the city, she was at the apartment before he died."

"Ports have been alerted Bailey, she's our main suspect." John paced back and forth in the room, glancing between Darren and Bailey. "It's clear these are crimes of passion – all these guys were cheating."

"Carly – the woman sleeping with Evan Jacobs – she said that he was going to call it quits with his wife." Bailey tapped her pen against the table, obviously relaying the meeting with the girlfriend in her mind.

"Maybe he did and she decided death would be a suitable punishment for adultery." Stephen quipped, trying to fathom how a relationship could turn that bad.

Stephens grin dropped as Bailey glared at him. So much for trying to lighten the mood. "These women were working together, they wanted revenge."

"Bailey, I need you to track down Mrs. Jacobs and – we need to do whatever we can to find them." John with all his authority commanded from the top of the conference table.

"The gun we found at Christian Thomas' apartment had different sets of prints, no hits in AFIS. However, the striations on the bullets found in Evan Jacobs and Aiden James both match the gun." Stephen pushed a case file towards John containing the evidence, Erica had worked hard in ballistics before she was taken of the case.

"Nice work, Stephen." John nodded and thumbed through the pictures comparing the bullets.

Stephen once again glanced into the lab opposite the conference room as he said, "Don't thank me, thank Erica."

* * *

><p>Bailey's fingers trembled as she pushed the bullets into the magazine of the gun one by one. Her breath was coming in shallow pants and her heart was racing in her chest. Her mind was in a dreadful place, horrible thoughts filling it, images dancing before her eyes. Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips to try and give herself some relief but it was no use. On her second attempt she managed to push the magazine inside her pistol, pulling the hammer back to load the bullets. Flicking the safety off she aimed the pistol at her target; the floating piece of paper wavering in the slight breeze about 30 feet from her.<p>

Closing one eye, she eyed up a spot on the target sheet but she could see her hands shaking, the tip of the gun moving all over the place. Squeezing her hands tighter around the gun she tried to tell herself to focus on the task at hand. She tried to force the awful thoughts from her mind, to concentrate on her job but it was all she could think about. Beads of sweat gathered on her upper lip and forehead, her breathing becoming heavier and shallower in the confined space of the shooting range. There was no air and she was finding it harder to breathe as the seconds ticked past. Opening her mouth, she gasped for air.

"Bailey." A voice whispered from behind her and she jumped, her finger slipping against the trigger as she pulled it and sent a bullet ricocheting off into the shooting range in a random direction.

Looking over her shoulder, Bailey saw Erica standing there, a concerned look on her face. "Are you alright?"

"I missed." Bailey replied pitifully.

"I can see that." Erica told her, her eyes looking to the glass-less shooting window where Bailey had fired the gun. The bullet had lodged in one of the walls; something that would likely come back to bite one of them in the ass later, and Bailey now stood with the gun dangling down by her side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Bailey practically squeaked, turning to disassemble the gun, her hands shaking slightly as she took the pieces apart. Erica wasn't convinced at all. She knew just by looking at the brunette that something was amiss with her. And she needed to find out what it was.

"Please, Bailey, I can tell something is wrong with you. I just want to help you." Erica practically pleaded with her.

Bailey shrugged after a few moments, her back still to her friend. "Seth's dead." she spoke slowly.

"What? Oh my god, Bailey, what happened?" Erica moved closer to her, her hand instinctively reaching out towards the brunette to comfort her. Bailey was still, as Erica placed her palm on her shoulder, gently moving it back and forth.

"He was shot in the head. Killed instantly. His body is being flown home within the next week."

"Bailey," Erica breathed out. "That's awful. I'm so sorry, I...I don't know what else to say."

"There's nothing to say, Erica." Bailey replied, finally managing to disassemble the gun. She placed each piece back in the black case which she had removed it from and sealed it up.

"What do you mean?" Erica asked as Bailey lifted the case and turned around to face her, tossing her hair back across her shoulder at the same time. "You must be so upset. I can't imagine how you're feeling."

"I'm feeling fine. Everything is fine." Bailey ground out.

Erica put her hand on Bailey's arm. "Talk to me. We're best friends. Surely you know that I'm here for you when bad things happen."

"I don't need comfort, Erica. I'm doing just fine. What I need is for people like you to stop interfering in my life. God, you're almost as bad as Stu!" The brunette snapped, pushing her way past Erica and heading for the door, storming out and letting it slam closed behind her, leaving Erica with her mouth hanging open, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes at both her friend's situation and behaviour.

* * *

><p><strong>AN – Thanks ResplendentAnarchist and ThatGirl54 for the reviews. We know it's quite hard keeping up with what's going on, so we've tried to summarise what's happened a little bit more in this chapter :). Karen & Lou x**


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